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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223075">Quarantini Blues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Busybee/pseuds/Busybee'>Busybee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>5 Seconds of Summer (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5SOS - Freeform, Alcohol, F/F, I don't know a damn thing about video games, Recreational Drug Use, calums hair is longer than it actually was, i took some liberties, quarantine fic, roy does not exist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:48:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Busybee/pseuds/Busybee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat predictable quarantine fic where Calum feels lonely, Jack feels horny, and the FBI agents watching them through their webcams feel uncomfortable.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Calum Hood/Jack Barakat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quarantini Blues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Calum’s been on his own for a few weeks when the first call happens. It’s early in the afternoon, the shadows on Calum’s street just starting to grow longer, when his phone rings.<br/>
  “You busy?” Jack’s voice comes through the line. Gruff, like he just woke up from a nap. “Wanna chat?”<br/>
  “About what?” Calum says, already settling down on his couch.<br/>
  “Yeah, that’s always been such a problem with us. What’ve you been doing?”<br/>
  Calum sighs. He’d like to lie and say he’s been at peak productivity, cooking from scratch, writing, crafting, baking fucking sourdough, whatever everyone else seems to be doing. But then again, it’s not like Jack’s been up to anything spectacular. Probably.<br/>
  “Smoking weed and watching TV,” he says, truthfully. “I ordered McDonalds three times this week. It was great.”<br/>
  “You’re living it up. Hey, turn your camera on, I wanna see you.”<br/>
  “Perv,” Calum says, hitting the video button on the call.<br/>
  “I’m a visual man, Hood.”<br/>
  Jack’s video turns on too, and he appears on Calum’s phone. His hair is dishevelled, his beard’s growing in, and he looks in general like someone… well, like someone who hasn’t left the house in a few weeks.<br/>
  “Nice roots,” Calum comments. Jack’s face breaks out into a grin.<br/>
  “Fuck you,” he says. “I could say the same. Cute curls, by the way.”<br/>
  Calum automatically reaches up a hand to pull the hood of his sweater down a little further, self-consciously pushing his hair out of the way.<br/>
  “I don’t have anyone to cut it,” he says, a tinge defensively.<br/>
  “Good. It suits you. One day you’ll be old and bald, and you’ll be sorry.”<br/>
  “Shut up,” Calum grins.<br/>
  “Take it from me, Calum. I’m there already.”<br/>
  “Fuck’s sake,” Calum says, fondly. It feels good to talk to someone outside of his band. Not that he doesn’t enjoy their almost daily conversations - he’s just used to having a circle larger than three people. Six, if he counts their girlfriends, which he does. Anyway. He’s used to seeing more than six people and his dog.<br/>
Besides, all the band conversations recently have largely centered around plans for the Wildflower music video, live shows, and future singles. Planning, planning, planning. After all that planning and very little doing, it’s not really surprising that all Calum does when he gets off the phone is turn to mindless entertainment.<br/>
He’s been playing a lot of old video games, too. Sometimes with Luke. Often with Michael. Mostly alone. Not that he feels sorry for himself, or anything.<br/>
  “How’re the rest of the boys?” Jack asks. “They’ve been hard to get ahold of.”<br/>
  “They’re working on stuff,” Calum says. “I mean, I am, too. But they’re all co-quarantined with their people, I guess they’re busier.”<br/>
  “Ah,” Jack says, nodding sagely. “Yeah. I feel that. Alex is raising farm animals with his wife.”<br/>
  “What are you doing?”<br/>
  “Raising my blood alcohol content. With myself.”<br/>
  “Jack.”<br/>
  “Kidding, Cal,” Jack says, waving a hand. “I’m okay. I dunno, I’m just… wasting time I guess. Working out some. Reading. Jerking off. Honestly not that different from normal.”<br/>
  “Yeah,” Calum says. It’s not that different, except that he didn’t realize until now how much of his time he spent just… being with people. That massive chunk of his days spent hanging out, doing nothing, but with someone. Inconsequential interactions. Talking to baristas. Work people. Fans. Strangers in an underground club. Hot strangers, happy to take him home.<br/>
  God, he misses sex. He hadn’t even known he spent so much time pursuing it until it wasn’t an option anymore.<br/>
  “Do you wanna… I don’t know, spend more time talking?” Jack says, after a beat of silence. If he didn’t know better, Calum would swear he seems a bit shy. “I know you’re probably busy with album promo and stuff, but I dunno. I feel like we hung out a lot before everything shut down, and we don’t have other people with us, so. You know.”<br/>
  “Is this like some sad single’s club or something?”<br/>
  “Absolutely. You want in?”<br/>
  “Are we the only members?”<br/>
  “It’s an exclusive club.”<br/>
  Calum smiles again.<br/>
  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”</p><p>  Of course, the next day is when Michael calls in to tell them that Andy’s got an idea for the cancelled Wildflower music video, and Calum finds himself unexpectedly busy. Andy appears on Michael’s screen, explaining the idea of a home shoot.<br/>
  “Are we just gonna have our living rooms in the background?” Ashton says. He seems vaguely excited by the idea. Then again, Ashton seems excited by anything that gives him something to do, these days. “Or should we find green screens? How hard could they be to order on Amazon?”<br/>
  “We’ll figure something out,” Andy reassures him. “We can just try it, see if it’s worth putting out there. Sarah and I have been learning together, I think it’ll be cool.”<br/>
  “Honestly, it’s not like we really have anything else to do,” Luke points out reasonably. “If it doesn’t work, whatever. Nobody needs to know. We’ll just put off the video until later.”<br/>
  “I’m about to stop-motion film like three hundred flowers,” Andy says. “It better fucking work.”<br/>
  “How are we going to play off each other?” Calum asks. “If we don’t know what each other are doing, I mean.”<br/>
  Andy gives him a wan smile.<br/>
  “Don’t worry, Calum, you’ll know. I have a plan.”<br/>
  “What won’t work?” A seventh voice joins in. Sierra appears in Luke’s window of the Zoom call. She waves. “Hi, guys.”<br/>
  “Andy has a video idea for Wildflower,” Luke says, his voice quieting as he turns away from his phone.<br/>
  “It’s dope!” Ashton all but yells.<br/>
  “Hi, Sierra,” Calum says.<br/>
  From there, what had started as a meeting genuinely about business rapidly dissolves into disarray. Crystal comes home from walking the dogs and joins in on Michael’s screen, with Southy. Ashton invites KayKay into the call from the other end of his living room, resulting in a lot of giggling from both of them. Any further talk of the video is derailed into chatting about the gardening Ashton’s been doing, Luke’s latest quarantine hobby (“I’ve decided to try a Picasso-like approach to sewing,” he says, while Sierra fights to keep a straight face beside him), Michael’s unsuccessful foray into cooking, Crystal’s experiments with yoga, and whatever Calum’s been up to.<br/>
  “What <em>have</em> you been up to?” Ashton asks. He’s looking healthy, these days, Calum thinks. Maybe being forced to stay home has done him some good.<br/>
  “You know,” Calum says, shrugging. “Cooking, crafting, baking.”<br/>
  “Scratching your balls?” Michael suggests. “Fuck off, you haven’t been <em>crafting</em>.”<br/>
  “I haven’t,” Calum admits. “I’ve been doing pretty much nothing, to be honest.”<br/>
  “You feeling okay, Cal?”<br/>
  It’s Sierra who asks, gently and sincerely. There’s a beat of silence.<br/>
  “I’m good,” he says eventually. “Honestly, I’m fine. I’m just bored.”<br/>
  “So long as you’re not spending too much time smoking yourself out and watching porn,” Michael says mildly. He’s not paying attention to the call anymore. In the background, Calum can hear the sound of Call of Duty starting up on Michael’s desktop.<br/>
  “Ha ha,” Calum says, unimpressed. “Like that’s not what you’re doing.”<br/>
  “I don’t need porn, mate,” Michael says, focused on the game he’s started up. “I like it, but I don’t need it.”<br/>
  “Let the man watch porn if he wants,” Ashton interjects. “Stop stealing his spark of joy, Mike.”<br/>
  “It’s healthy,” Luke nods. “Good for you, Cal.”<br/>
  “Anyway,” Calum says, decisively ignoring his bandmates, “I have to go. Andy, let us know more about your idea, yeah?”<br/>
  “I’ll send you all detailed instructions,” Andy nods. “Enjoy your porn.”<br/>
  Calum doesn’t dignify that with an answer. He signs off, saying goodbye and receiving a chorus of goodbyes in return, and then his living room is suddenly silent. It’d gotten dark around him while he was on the call, and he hadn’t noticed. He gets up, turning on the lights, and waking Duke up in the process. Duke yawns and stretches, hopping down from where he’d been napping on the far end of the couch. The soft <em>patpatpat</em> of his little feet on the tiles make Calum smile, despite his weird mood.<br/>
  “Hi, kid,” he says, kneeling down. “You hungry? Wanna go outside for a second?”<br/>
  Duke sits patiently, only springing back to his feet when Calum slides open the door to the back yard.<br/>
  “Go on, then,” he says, letting Duke run past him. “Do your business.”<br/>
  Duke’s light fur stands out in the twilight, and Calum can just about see him sniffing around the back of the yard. He sighs, standing in the doorway. The cooling night is the first time all day he’s taken the time to properly experience fresh air; he’s gotten into a habit recently of just letting Duke run around outside whenever he wants. It’s been a while since he went outside with any purpose.<br/>
  Eventually, Calum calls Duke back in, and starts thinking about dinner. The dog is easy enough; Duke’s half-cup of Royal Canin goes down a treat, same as it ever does. It’s only once Calum’s standing in front of an experimental collection of fridge scraps that he remembers about Jack. He hurriedly checks the time on the oven: just about nine p.m.<br/>
  “He’ll still be awake,” Calum says, to nobody in particular, and pulls out his phone.<br/>
  This time it starts off as a FaceTime call. It rings for so long that Calum almost gives up - but at the last minute, Jack picks up. He shaved since they last talked, his face smooth in the low quality of the video. He looks significantly less messy - if more drunk.<br/>
  “Hey-y!” Jack’s smiling goofily, his voice a little louder than usual. “I thought you forgot!”<br/>
  “I got caught up with work stuff,” Calum explains. “I figured you’d still be awake.”<br/>
  “Always awake for our club meetings,” Jack says. “What work stuff?”<br/>
  “A music video. Andy wants us to shoot it from our homes, and then edit it all into one video.”<br/>
  “Cool.”<br/>
  “I hope so.”<br/>
  “You guys come up with crazy shit all the time,” Jack says. “You can pull anything off. Andy’s good at what he does. He gets you guys. What’re you doing now?”<br/>
Calum looks down at his incomprehensive ingredients.<br/>
  “I’m... cooking, I guess.”<br/>
  They talk while Calum makes his dinner. He sets up his phone so he doesn’t have to keep carrying it around, and without paying much attention, Calum finds himself with a respectable stir-fry and some rice from an ambiguously old takeout container in the back of his fridge.<br/>
  “I like watching you do stuff,” Jack says while Calum plates up for himself. Somewhere in their conversation, Jack lay down on his couch, where he seems to be halfway falling asleep.<br/>
  “I like being watched,” Calum replies.<br/>
  He’s joking. Even though he doesn’t really know what the joke is.<br/>
  “I bet you do. Showoff. That looks good.”<br/>
  “It’s okay,” Calum shrugs. “I wish I had beer.”<br/>
  “I have beer,” Jack says. He stretches a little as he says it, settling further into the couch.<br/>
  “I can tell,” Calum grins. Jack smiles, too, sleepy, his eyes shut. It makes Calum miss touch, watching this. Watching someone get all cosy. He pats Duke on the head, stroking his silky ears.<br/>
  “I shaved,” Jack says suddenly, touching his face with one hand.<br/>
  “I noticed. You look fresh.”<br/>
  Jack grins, tangling a hand in his hair, tugging a bit.<br/>
  “Wanna watch a movie?”</p><p>  They set up a screen share, and after a short debate, settle for Shutter Island. Calum finds snacks somewhere in the back of his cupboard, feeds Duke a treat, changes into a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, and pulls his weed out from under his coffee table.<br/>
  “Mind if I smoke?” Calum jokes lightly, loading up his grinder.<br/>
  “Oh, please don’t,” Jack groans sarcastically. “I can’t <em>stand</em> the smell.”<br/>
  The movie starts. Jack’s moved into his bedroom, setting up on the TV there. He’s shirtless, and nursing a fresh beer. In days gone by, Calum’s stayed over at Jack’s countless times. They’ve hung out in his living room, exactly like this, sharing beer and weed, sometimes in drying swimming shorts after a day in the pool - but this one feels different, somehow. It reminds Calum of a high school sleepover.<br/>
  Leonardo DiCaprio appears on screen, stepping out onto the deck of a boat. Calum lights up.<br/>
  “Michael got on my case,” he says after a minute, feeling like he’s barely talking. He’s slowly melting into the couch, the edges of his vision becoming blurry. Leo’s character does a little dance with his wife, fussing over a tie.<br/>
  “About what?”<br/>
  “Smoking weed. Watching too much porn.”<br/>
  Jack chuckles.<br/>
  “Nothing wrong with that. This isn’t porn.”<br/>
  “He thinks I’m depressed.”<br/>
  “Well, are you?”<br/>
  Calum considers for a minute. It’s hard to think. He stares at his TV, trying to remember the plot of the movie, trying to remember how he’s been feeling for the past few weeks. He can’t really remember feeling much, to be honest.<br/>
  “I guess not,” he says eventually, frowning.<br/>
  “Maybe you’re just not used to being alone.”<br/>
  Calum considers that, too.<br/>
  “I’m not,” he says slowly, like it’s a revelation.<br/>
  “Me neither,” Jack says. Calum glances at their video call on the laptop. Jack’s looking at his TV, not at Calum. Every so often, he takes a sip from his beer, the muscles in his throat working as he swallows. Calum accidentally stares at him for too long before he realizes what he’s doing.<br/>
  He needs to stop smoking hybrids. They make him weird.<br/>
  Leo walks through a concentration camp. There’s a recurring theme of record players, Calum notes. His eyes are so blue. Luke’s eyes are that blue, too. His life has a recurring theme of record players.<br/>
  “I’m calling my therapist twice a week, Calum,” Jack says suddenly, pulling Calum back out of his spiralling thoughts. His voice is so gentle, and Calum feels so heavy. “There’s no shame in being depressed.”<br/>
  “I’m okay,” Calum murmurs. It’s such an effort. He turns away from the TV and gazes over at the video call. Jack’s looking at him, too, now. Calum gives him a sleepy smile.<br/>
  “Yeah,” says Jack. “Me too.”</p><p>  Calum wakes up to Duke crawling under his arm and licking his face. He grunts, trying to push Duke off him. Grow opposable thumbs, he thinks. Learn to open the door yourself. Dad’s sleeping.<br/>
  Duke whines. Then yelps.<br/>
  “Al<em>right</em>,” Calum groans, blinking his eyes open. Then he blinks again, confused. It takes him a few seconds to get his bearings.<br/>
  The sun is streaming in through the sliding doors and the windows, dripping warm patches of light all over the couch where he was sleeping. His TV is still on, showing the laptop that it’s hooked up to, but the movie has long since ended.<br/>
  He doesn’t remember finishing the movie. Or hanging up, for that matter. He must have fallen asleep at some point, which is embarrassing, because he’s twenty four, and he can handle his weed. Usually.<br/>
  Duke whines again.<br/>
  “Right,” Calum mumbles, staggering to his feet and opening the door. “Sorry. Go pee.”<br/>
  He stumbles back to the couch, finding his phone somewhere between the cushion, and is only moderately surprised to learn that it’s nearly half past noon. With how badly Duke wanted to go outside, he knew it must have been late.<br/>
  He checks his email, finding Andy’s promised detailed plan of the music video. <em>Wear whatever you’re comfortable in</em>, it says. <em>But think sexy trashy 90s</em>.<br/>
  Calum snorts. After Andy’s email, there’s the usual daily handful of COVID-19 Updates, some from their manager, blah blah blah. He pulls up his conversation with Jack instead. Their last interaction was the call last night: incoming call, 5:36:14. Over five and a half hours. Christ.<br/>
  He thinks about what to say, absently biting his hangnail. It’s not even that big a deal, he tells himself. No need to get weird about it.</p><p>  CH: Dude, sorry about falling asleep on you yesterday. I guess I was more tired than I thought.</p><p>  He sends the text, wondering if Jack will even be in commission yet. From what Calum could tell, he was making his way fairly decently through his beer supply by the end of the night. Duke is still playing around outside, chasing a yellow butterfly. Calum’s phone buzzes in his hand:</p><p>  JB: No worries my guy. I also fell asleep<br/>
  JB: You’re cute when you sleep anyway<br/>
  JB: You should go outside today. The sun’ll do you good.<br/>
  CH: Yes, Papa.<br/>
  JB: Don’t even start.</p><p>  Calum smiles, and begins pulling together some form of breakfast. While he’s eating, he reads over Andy’s email again. They’ll be passing around a green screen: Luke first, then Ashton, then Calum, and then Michael last. <em>The dates of your shoot are in the detailed chart below.</em> Leave it to Andy DeLuca to plan everything down to the last minute. In the band group chat, everyone’s already sent in at least three outfit suggestions that Andy will absolutely not approve of, although “wear whatever you’re comfortable in,” technically might apply to Michael’s bare ass.<br/>
  Ashton’s sent him a message about it, separately. Several messages, separately, actually.</p><p>  AI: Calum<br/>
  AI: SOS<br/>
  AI: I don’t have anything to wear.<br/>
  AI: can I call you</p><p>  That was hours ago. He’s sure to have figured it out by now - and anyway, he’s not in the mood to talk just yet. He thinks briefly about how he’ll set up for the video, but decides he has plenty of time to figure that out later. He puts down his phone, pulls out his weed, and goes outside. He hasn’t mowed his lawn in weeks now, and the grass is growing up to his ankles, dotted with wildflowers and weeds. He lies down in it, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. Duke flops down beside him, and together they pass the better part of the afternoon staring into the blue sky, breathing in fresh air, and falling asleep in the tall grass.</p><p>  “I dunno, Jack,” Calum says doubtfully, looking at himself in the mirror. “You don’t think these pants are too much?”<br/>
  “Vinyl flares are never too much,” Jack says from the screen. “They make your ass look great.”<br/>
  “Yeah,” Calum agrees absently, turning around to look at himself from the back. The pants aren’t even his: Luke lent them to him a few months ago, and Calum never found a time to give them back. The red button down he’s wearing with it is one of Ashton’s, left here for ages.<br/>
  Come to think of it, half his wardrobe probably doesn’t really belong to him.<br/>
  He sighs.<br/>
  “I’m gonna find something else,” he says, feeling defeated. It’s just about two in the morning; he and Jack have been talking since dinner, and they’ve been trying to decide on an outfit for most of the call.<br/>
  “You’re overthinking it,” Jack says. “Come on, Cal. Sexy grungy nineties is your prime.”<br/>
  “I know,” Calum says, frustratedly digging through the depths of his closet. “Man, I’m sorry this is taking so long. I didn’t know I was this indecisive.”<br/>
  “Don’t worry,” Jack dismisses, waving a hand. “Not like I have anywhere to be. Plus, you taking your clothes off in front of me a hundred times? Don’t mind if I do.”<br/>
  “Fuck off” Calum grins, shucking off the vinyl pants. He’s never been self-conscious about undressing in front of people - there’s never been a need to. The pants are tight and don’t breathe, anyway. And they squeak.<br/>
  Calum reaches into the depths of his wardrobe, finding a silky fabric from a long-forgotten costume.<br/>
  “How do we feel about mesh?”<br/>
  “Put it on and we’ll see,” Jack says. Calum pulls the top over his head and looks at himself. The material is sheer enough that he can see his tattoos through it, but baggy enough to not be obscene. Wearing just that and his underwear, it reminds him of a negligee. He sways his hips gently, liking how the shirt moves.<br/>
  “I like this,” he says, with his back still to his laptop.<br/>
  “It’s hot,” Jack agrees. If he sounds a little choked, Calum doesn’t notice. He turns his body a bit, tugging the hem of the shirt up over his belly button.<br/>
  “I feel kinda slutty.”<br/>
  “You do like the tasteful tits out look,” Jack says. Calum laughs out loud. He finds a pair of black pants on the floor and pulls them on, saying, “Don’t slut shame me in my own home, Jack.”<br/>
  Now, it looks less like lingerie and more like an outfit.<br/>
  “I think this is it,” Calum says, adjusting himself in the pants. They’re not <em>tight</em>, but they fit him well. It’s been a minute since he’s worn anything except sweatpants or shorts. He feels a little more human than he has in weeks.<br/>
  “You nailed it,” Jack nods. “Stop touching your dick, man, this is turning into an OnlyFans video.”<br/>
  “Not my fault you’re so deprived you’re coming onto your friends,” Calum teases, but stops. He turns back to his laptop and drops down onto his bed, pulling the computer onto his lap. He’d left a beer on his nightstand at the beginning of the outfit search, and he picks it up again now. It’s a little lukewarm, but not the worst.<br/>
  “So what now?” he asks, taking a sip. “Wanna watch another movie?”<br/>
  “I dunno. It’s pretty late,” Jack shrugs. “I could watch you take your pants off again.”<br/>
  Calum smiles, going along with the joke.<br/>
  “You’ll have to pay extra for full frontal.”<br/>
  “I’ll take the free version.”<br/>
  “Just me and the skimpy mesh shirt?”<br/>
  “Stop,” Jack groans, dropping his head into his arms, and Calum’s heart skips a beat. The air in the room shifts suddenly. He’s very aware of his own thudding pulse, how he’s been feeling warm and playful ever since Jack started complimenting him. Calum has a sudden, desperate need to know if they’re still kidding - but before he can say anything, Jack lifts his gaze back up to the screen.<br/>
  “I’m pretty tired, Cal,” he says, giving what Calum’s sure is a fake yawn. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”<br/>
  “It’s my turn to shoot the video tomorrow.”<br/>
  “Right.”<br/>
  “I’ll call you after.”<br/>
  “Okay. Goodnight, bud,” Jack says, and hangs up. Just like that. Calum stares at the empty screen, trying to feel anything except confused. And kind of offended.<br/>
  If Jack had asked him to pose in the mesh shirt, Calum honestly wouldn’t have said no. He’s done stuff like that before; touring for half a year doesn’t leave time for much except long distance sex calls. It’s not ideal, obviously, but it’s been so long since he’s felt the hot burn of someone wanting him, he’d happily let just about anyone make him feel sexy. He kicks his pants off and cups his cock through his underwear, half hard just thinking about it.<br/>
  He can’t believe he’s hungrily reminiscing about shitty phone sex in the bunk of a tour bus. Things must be worse than he thought.</p><p>  As far as music video shoots go, this one is the least stressful by miles. Calum gets his borrowed green screen set up in front of his desktop, puts Duke in the other room, gets Andy and Sarah on video chat, and gets to work. Slowly, as the day goes on, the others join the video call too, watching and making suggestions. It’s easier to get into it than he expected; he likes this song, he loves his friends, he loves to dance. What is there to be worried about?<br/>
  The shoot ends at around eight, which is way longer than any of them might have expected this to take. The room’s slowly been filling up with miscellaneous crap - a bass in one corner for the shoot, snacks, his mostly-eaten takeout lunch. Other things, like makeup, other hats, stupid glasses, lie littered around on every surface. Calum feels a bit like he’s regressed back into teenagehood - but he still feels good. He hasn’t had a full day of work in way too long.<br/>
  Andy tells him good job and signs off fairly quickly, leaving Calum and the rest of the boys on call. Calum takes his laptop and moves out into the living room, managing to catch the last light of the day.<br/>
  “So where the hell have you been, Cal?” Ashton demands, throwing his hands up. He’s smiling, clearly not actually mad. Calum knows him well enough to understand that there’s genuine concern behind it.<br/>
  “Sorry, man,” Calum says, sincerely. “I don’t know.”<br/>
  “You never don’t answer me.”<br/>
  There’s a touch of petulance to it, and it makes Calum smile.<br/>
  “What, he can’t have space if he wants it?” Luke asks, sparing Calum from having to answer. “Leave him alone, Ashton. Maybe he has a life.”<br/>
  “He better <em>not</em>,” Michael jumps in. “We’re plague rats. None of us can have a life right now. You better tell me you’ve gone ghost because you’re busy getting your ass beat at Call of Duty by strangers on the internet.”<br/>
  “I’m playing Portal,” Calum says.<br/>
  “Yeah, because you’re scared.”<br/>
  “No, because Call of Duty sucks.”<br/>
  “You <em>know</em> I would kick your ass.”<br/>
  “Kids, please,” Luke interrupts. “Both of you should try not playing video games all day. Go outside.”<br/>
  Michael rolls his eyes. “Oh, just because you’re gardening.”<br/>
  “I am!”<br/>
  The conversation, as it usually does, unravels pretty fast into mindless banter. Calum feeds Duke and lets him outside one last time, only realizing how late it’s getting when Luke says, “Ok, guys, I have to go, I promised I’d make dinner tonight.”<br/>
  Calum looks at the time, and says, “Yeah, I should go, too.”<br/>
  He knows Jack’s probably not <em>waiting</em>. But still. He promised he’d call.<br/>
  “Busy night with our favourite incognito website?” Ashton teases. “Text me back, Cal. I miss you.”<br/>
  He promises he will, promises Michael that he’ll play a game or two with him, promises Luke to come by and pick up some cucumbers he and Sierra have grown (“We’ll keep a distance, of course,” Luke says quickly, as if Calum doesn’t know).<br/>
  “Love you guys,” he says, and signs off. He shuts the door to the room he’d been shooting the video in, ignoring the mess, and heads for his bedroom instead.<br/>
  Jack answers the call after the second ring. Calum lets out a breath, feeling weirdly relieved. After how suddenly Jack left last night, Calum wasn’t sure he’d answer at all today.<br/>
  “Hi,” Calum says softly.<br/>
  “Hey, kid,” Jack replies. He seems more awake than he has been, more at ease. He’s growing in a new quarantine beard, but it looks tidier this time, less like the side effect of a bender and more like a conscious choice. “How was your music video?”<br/>
  “Good,” Calum says, stretching out on his bed and ending up on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. “It feels way better to have something to do.”<br/>
  “No kidding,” Jack grins. “You’re not smoking.”<br/>
  “You’re not drinking,” Calum points out.<br/>
  “You’re still wearing the mesh.”<br/>
  Calum notices the abrupt change of subject, and decides not to pry.<br/>
  “I know how much you like it,” he says. “So what’s the agenda today?”<br/>
  “<em>Alien</em>,” Jack says immediately. “It’s a classic, it’s immaculate, and you’ve never seen it.”<br/>
  Calum allows himself a nice long time to be talked into it, but once Jack inevitably wins the discussion, he kicks off his pants and settles down in his bed. Jack watches him with a funny expression on his face that Calum can’t read, until he suddenly blurts, “Are you gonna get changed?”<br/>
  Calum blinks.<br/>
  “No?” he says, surprised. “Why?”<br/>
  “Oh,” Jack says. He looks troubled. “Okay. Don’t worry about it.”<br/>
  Jack seems distracted, fidgeting more than usual and rearranging his screens. They get about halfway through the movie, the Nostromo just managing to take flight, before Calum breaks and asks what’s wrong. Jack sighs, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger.<br/>
  “Listen, man, don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, “but it’s really hard to focus on anything with you wearing that thing.”<br/>
  Calum misses a beat, not sure he’s understanding what he’s hearing.<br/>
  “You… you like the -,”<br/>
  “Yes,” Jack groans, like he’s angry with himself for admitting it. “Yeah, I don’t know what it is, but I really do.”<br/>
  “Oh,” Calum says blankly.<br/>
  “Can I call you back in like, ten?” Jack asks, sounding stressed. “Is that weird? I swear I’ll be normal after.”<br/>
  “You don’t have to go.”<br/>
  Calum doesn’t remember deciding to say that, but here he is.<br/>
  Jack pauses for a second.<br/>
  “You… You’re saying it’s okay for me to jerk off in front of you,” he says, and then clears his throat. “Just to clarify.”<br/>
  “Sure,” Calum shrugs, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “We’re friends.”<br/>
  “You do this with your friends?” Jack jokes weakly.<br/>
  “Sometimes,” Calum admits, casually, like it’s no big deal. It’s not untrue, exactly. He makes a point these days of not sleeping with his friends, but things get weird on tour. So he and Michael may have helped each other out sometimes. And he and Ashton. And, on occasion, he and Luke.<br/>
  He does this with his band, he should say. Or, he did.<br/>
  Jack shifts back, reaching a hand down to the front of his shorts, like he’s still not sure.<br/>
  “You don’t have to,” Calum says, sensing the hesitation. His own uncertainty rears its head, just a little bit - there’s every chance he’s read this wrong, that whatever perfect balance seems to be in place right now is about to come crashing down.<br/>
  “I want to,” Jack sighs, what Calum can see of his arm moving in slow, deliberate strokes. “Do you? Please say you do.”<br/>
  Calum’s so hard now he’s aching, his cock throbbing uncomfortably between his body and the mattress.<br/>
  “Yeah,” he decides, rolling ungraciously onto his back to undo his fly. He’s about to push his pants off and drop them unceremoniously onto the floor, when Jack suddenly says, “Wait.”<br/>
  Calum looks at him, pulse thrumming. Even in the questionable quality of the chat, he can see a warm flush creeping up Jack’s neck, the intent in his eyes.<br/>
  “Can I see?”<br/>
  Calum blushes, despite himself. He grins to try to push aside the sudden shyness, getting to his feet on the floor beside his bed.<br/>
  “You didn’t get enough of me dropping trou yesterday?” He dips his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, teasing a little.<br/>
  “I’m a simple and deprived man, Cal,” Jack says, and there’s an edge of breathlessness to his voice now that makes Calum’s stomach feel tight. “Take your pants off.”<br/>
  Calum complies, making a show of tugging at his cock in a way that makes his breath catch. Jack groans softly.<br/>
  “Stop teasing,” he says, but it sounds more like a plea. He’s working his cock in earnest now, breath coming in little pants, and Calum almost doesn’t even mind that he can only see the top half of Jack’s body. His now-dishevelled hair and sex-flushed skin could be enough. Calum worries his bottom lip with his teeth and rubs small circles around the head of his cock, going agonizingly slow with himself. His balls are starting to ache a little, his whole body screaming at him to keep going.<br/>
  “I like teasing.” His voice sounds husky, even to his own ears. He feels so warm, with Jack watching him like this.<br/>
  “Tell me what else you like,” Jack pants. “Please.”<br/>
  “I like this,” Calum says, dropping back onto the bed on his knees. “Just wearing a shirt.”<br/>
  “You like getting fucked like that?”<br/>
  Calum’s cock throbs so hard he whimpers, shutting his eyes.<br/>
  “You <em>do</em>,” Jack moans, like this is a devastating revelation. “God, Calum, you’re so fucking sexy.”<br/>
  The compliment sends a hot shiver up Calum’s spine, and he quits teasing himself, his fist sliding along the length of his cock, wet with precome. He moans with relief, louder than he normally would be on his own. It’s not much different from him jerking off by himself - except it is, it’s better with an audience. Jack lets out a noise somewhere between a moan and a growl.<br/>
  “You’re impossible,” he groans, voice tight. “Calum, I can’t -,”<br/>
  “Yeah,” Calum pants, his hips twitching forwards into his fist. “What, you keep thinking about fucking me like this?”<br/>
  “<em>Don’t</em>,” Jack grits out, doubling over. Calum moans shamelessly, running his spare hand up his thigh and over his belly, lifting the bottom of the mesh shirt like he had last night. He’s imaging it, too - Jack pushing him into his couch and fucking him stupid, making him scream into the couch cushions. He wants to say these things, put them in Jack’s head, too, but instead he twists his hand on the upstroke and just gasps, “Oh my God, Jack.”<br/>
  “Fuck, Cal, please come,” Jack all but begs. “Come with me.”<br/>
  Calum doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s not sure if it’s knowing that he’s made Jack horny enough to come, or if it’s the plea itself, but he swears and comes hard enough that it aches in his stomach, only barely remembering to not come on his laptop. He drops down onto his sheets, panting.<br/>
  “Holy shit,” Jack says quietly, after a while. Calum reaches out and clumsily turns the screen towards himself so he can see it properly. Jack’s leaning back on his couch, staring up at the ceiling. His shirt is rucked up to his chest, but Calum can see the trail of come spreading from his belly up to stain the shirt. He grins.<br/>
  “Go take a shower,” he says, pushing his face further into his sheets. He feels so sleepy, so relaxed and happy. “You’re gross now.”<br/>
  “Blow me,” Jack replies, with absolutely no heat. He’s still in the same position, like he’s trying to get his energy back enough to move, his breathing slowing down but still heavy.<br/>
  “After quarantine.”<br/>
  “Ah, fuck,” Jack sighs, looking down at him at last. “I forgot about that.”<br/>
  “That’s why we started this singles club in the first place,” Calum reminds him. He pulls the shirt over his head at last, not bothering to inspect it for damage before he throws it over the edge of his bed. He’ll deal with it before the shoot tomorrow. He stretches out, naked and comfortable. He’ll go check up on Duke and wash his hands in a minute. Jack stares at him with an odd expression on his face.<br/>
  “So… what now?” he asks.<br/>
  “I think we were watching a movie,” Calum says. Jack snorts.<br/>
  “No, I mean.” He waves his hand vaguely. “Is this standard procedure for our meetings now?”<br/>
  Calum thinks for a second. It’s hard to consider anything outside of the happy calm he’s feeling. It’s hard to think about things like <em>irresponsible</em> and <em>bad timing</em> when he feels so good.<br/>
  “Depends,” he says eventually. “Do I have to wear the shirt every time?”<br/>
  “Do I have to start paying extra for other outfits?”<br/>
  Calum laughs.</p><p>  A week passes. Two weeks. Calum finds himself somehow busier than before, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s doing anything different. He supposes he’s just more active on the group chat, responding to Ashton more frequently, finding pockets where Michael’s down to play multiplayers. Walking his dog. Lying in the sun, reading. Playing music. Sending the odd nude to Jack. Getting the odd nude back.<br/>
  The day after the Wildflower music video is released, Michael calls while Calum’s in the middle of playing an old game of FIFA. He pauses, and picks up.<br/>
  “Look at that,” Michael says immediately. “You’re so vigilant these days.”<br/>
  Calum snorts.<br/>
  “Why, because I answered the phone?”<br/>
  “It was impossible to get hold of you,” Michael says, not unkindly. “It’s good to have you back, man.”<br/>
  Calum doesn’t know exactly what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. He supposes he has been more present. There doesn’t seem to be as much reason not to be, now.<br/>
  It’s a blessing, really, that Michael knows him well enough to not demand an answer or explanation.<br/>
  “Anyway,” he continues, like they didn’t just have a profound moment of understanding. “I just wanted to say that it seems the Wildflower vid is a hit, and me and Ash are talking about doing some kind of talk-through of the album in general, maybe tomorrow. You in?”<br/>
  “I’m in,” Calum says. He’s not really thinking about the talk-through, or the Wildflower video. He’s staring at a message that just popped up on his laptop.</p><p>  JB: Cal<br/>
  JB: Wanna come quarantine at my house for a while<br/>
  JB: #nothirst<br/>
  JB: bring ur boy</p><p>  Michael’s still talking, about times that work and <em>prepare a general idea of what you wanna say</em>, and Calum throws out buzzwords. He feels a slow smile spread over his face.</p><p>  JB: I have beer, if that’s enticing<br/>
  JB: I don’t wanna drink it alone anymore.</p><p>  “Yeah, sure,” Calum says eventually. “Just put it in the chat, or something. I’ll be there.”<br/>
  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Michael asks suspiciously. “You don’t have a secret lover over, do you? You <em>know</em> you have to tell me these things, Cal, I’m your best friend.”<br/>
  “Just playing FIFA,” Calum lies. It has the desired effect; Michael apologizes profusely, and tells him to get back to it, then.<br/>
  Calum hangs up, closes his laptop screen, and turns off his PlayStation. He gets up, searching for Duke, and finds him curled up in the dog bed.<br/>
  “Hi, kid,” Calum says, kneeling down to pet Duke’s soft head. “Wanna go on a little trip?”</p>
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